


The Intruder

by Carciphona



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied Relationships, Sexual Tension, Supernatural - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carciphona/pseuds/Carciphona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're just spending a nice night in your apartment, relaxing, when all of a sudden a strange man appears in your kitchen claiming his name is Lucifer, asking you to do a job for him.</p><p>Will you do a job that could risk your life as well as others for a man you just met? And what are these feelings building up inside you as he barely grazes your skin? And why do you crave more? He's only just a stranger after all!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic ever, so I'm just experimenting a little bit with my own thoughts. I don't really expect many readers, but I'm mainly doing this for myself to help improve for future fan fiction!

You yawn deeply as you lay on the couch on your stomach, staring at the television. There was something on but at this point in the night you weren’t entirely sure what was playing anymore. It was late but you didn’t really have any plans for your day tomorrow, so staying up was the least of your concerns.

You stretch out your limbs, not realizing how tense they were from laying in the same position for so long. Your shirt is riding up, baring a small portion of your stomach and one leg of your pajama pants is rolled up to your knee, the cause of your restlessness. You never could lay in one position for very long. It was just something you couldn’t help.

You step off the couch and stretch your arms up towards the ceiling as you yawn deeply again. You begin to walk towards your kitchen for a glass of water. There were no lights on in the apartment, a result of you losing track of time, so it took a minute for your eyes to adjust from the brightness of the television to the darkness of the room around you. As you walked towards the kitchen, you blindly stub your toe hard against your small dining table.

“Fuck!” Air hissing through your teeth as a feeling of electricity pulses through your toe. You carefully walk towards the kitchen light switch and flip it on. You lift your foot up slightly and examine your toe, making sure there was no blood shed. You didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow so you didn’t have to worry about walking around, but the last thing you wanted was to have a massively bruised or even broken toe. Everything looked fine and you let out a small sigh, not sure if it was in relief or just releasing the small amount of pain left. Maybe it was both.

You shrug it off and walk towards the cupboard to grab a glass. You stretch up, slightly on your tiptoes, as you always seemed to have to do to get in the shelf, your shirt rising up slightly as you stretch out. As you grabbed a glass, you think you hear a low chuckle from somewhere behind you. You stop as you hear the sound, still holding onto the glass in the cupboard. How could this be possible? You lived alone. You had lived alone for years now. There was no one around. After all, it was the middle of the night.

You let out a small sigh and you shrug it off. “You’re crazy, ya know” you say softly to yourself. You chuckle slightly at your own thoughts and lower yourself back onto your feet and turn to walk towards the sink to fill your glass. As you turn around, you see a man leaning against the counter beside the sink. He had short dirty blonde hair and ice blue eyes, stubble lining his lips, chin, and around his jaw bone. He stood there with his arms across his chest with a demeanor as though he belonged in your apartment with you.

You let out a startled gasp and drop your glass, continuously staring at this stranger in your kitchen. The glass shatters on the tile floor, but you don’t move your gaze away from the man. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?!” you shriek. You see the kitchen knives in the corner of your eye. You know you’d lunge for them if you had to.

The strange man notices your darted gaze towards the knives and lets out a small chuckle and smiles slightly. “Now, now. No need for violence.” He coos softly, sounding almost sarcastic. 

You swallow the small lump that had managed to build up in your throat. “Wh-wh-who are you?!” You manage to spit out, trying to find your courage once more. You tried to remember if your phone was nearby incase you needed to call 911 for the creeper in your apartment. Damn, you had left it on the coffee table in the living room. Too far to reach if needed.

“How the hell did you get in here?!”

He finally stands up straight rather than leaning against the counter and looks you in the eyes. “Which question would you like me to answer first? There’s just so many to choose from.” He smiles slightly again at his own little jokes. He takes a moment to look around the room, seemingly to take in his surroundings. You continue to stare at him, trying to find the right words to address this man.

“I have my phone. I’ll call the cops.” You bluff.

He lets out a booming laugh, his head leaning back as it rumbles through his throat. You clench your fists, determined to stand your ground. ‘He can’t know that I’m lying….’ You think confidently to yourself.

In the blink of an eye, the man was a foot in front of you. You let out a gasp as he suddenly appears. His hand reaches up to gently touch a small strand of hair that had escaped your messy bun. It dangled along your cheek. You hold your breath as his hand reaches the side of your cheek, the strand resting in the palm of your hand. “Pretty.” He sneers at you.

He drops his hand and turns his back to you and starts taking a few steps forward. ‘He seems pretty confident that I’m not going to stab him in the back.’ You think to yourself as you grit your teeth. With his back towards you, you could easily reach for those knives without him knowing.

“Don’t even think about it.” His gruff voice pierces your ears. Could he possibly know what you were thinking?

“You’re terrible at lying, you know…Your phone is still on the coffee table where you left it. Cops can’t help you anyway. They can’t save you from Satan.”

Your eyes widen as he speaks, his back still facing you. Was this guy fucking crazy? Satan? What the hell?

He chuckles softly and turns to face you. He looks straight into your eyes, almost as if he was peering into your soul. “I’m Lucifer, the fallen angel of the Lord God Almighty.” He laughs out the words, not even able to handle his own joke. You continue to stare at him, your knuckles white from clenching your fists tightly. You hadn’t moved an inch since the moment you first noticed the man leaning against the counter. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was this guy for real?

“I’ve come here to request a favor from you.” He continues, as he sits down in a chair by the dining table. Silly that you were so focused on a stubbed toe before, and now this…

“Tomorrow there will be two brothers entering this town for a little job….Sam and Dean Winchester.” He scoffs at the names as he almost spits the words out of his mouth.“ A tall man with shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes with a shorter man with green eyes. I need the tall one. And you’re going to bring him to me.”

You stare at him with a puzzling look as he leans back in the chair, crossing his arms back across his chest. Sam? Dean? Brothers? What on earth could this man Lucifer need two random brothers for? What makes him think you’d help him? Even if you did decide to help this man, and you’d be crazy if you did, you wouldn’t even know how to reach Lucifer! He was just a man that randomly appeared in your kitchen, claiming he was Satan.

“You sure ask a lot of questions,” Lucifer chuckles softly. You know he can read your thoughts now. Could he be the real thing? You always believed there were some weird supernatural things going on in the world, but you never thought it’d be anything like this. You feel tears swell in your eyes as the weight of the current events fill your mind. You slowly lower yourself onto the floor, leaning up against the cupboards.

Just like before, Lucifer suddenly appears in front of you, kneeling down a few inches away from your face. “Shh, shh now. I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I’m not a bad person. I’m not here to hurt you. Sam and Dean hurt people. Good people, like you,” he takes that one strand of hair back into his hand, tugging it lightly. “I’m just trying to stop them from hurting anyone else. I’m not what you read in those ‘stories’.” His voice sounds sincere as he almost whispers to you. If this is all true, how could Lucifer, Satan, whoever he was, be a good person? You shook your head at your own thoughts, not knowing what to believe anymore. Tears gently roll down your cheeks and you look up at him slowly, but you don’t say anything.

He gently wipes away one of your tears with his thumb, still looking at you. “It’s hard, I know. You’ll make the right decision.” 

You shiver ever so slightly at his soft touch, which actually surprises you. His hands were rough and calloused, but still felt soft and gentle against your skin. You couldn’t possibly begin to understand why you thought that about a random stranger, let alone crave for another touch.

He removed his hand from your cheek and stood up. He begins walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door. You jolt up from the floor, looking towards Lucifer. Your crying had ceased, your cheeks sticky from your dried tears. “What am I supposed to do when I find Sam and Dean? How do I find you?”

He smirks to himself and turns his head over his shoulder to call back to you as he opens the door slowly. “Oh I’m sure you’ll find a way. As for how you’ll find me…” He begins to take a few steps out the door before saying one last thing to you.

“I’m always around.” The door quietly shuts behind him, leaving you standing in the kitchen, still looking over at the door where Lucifer once stood.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lucifer knew he could easily teleport to where he needed to go rather than walking down an empty hallway, but he was in no rush. This turned out to be a great night. He was rather skeptical at first at choosing some random woman to try and capture Sam, his vessel, but you were pretty, beautiful even. He was confident you would find a way to get Sam to him, maybe even seduce him. Your body could certainly do the job. Hell, you could even be capable of seducing him! He had seen the flesh of your back and a bit of your stomach when you had previously stood up on your tiptoes to reach for that glass. Remembering the sight of your soft skin made Lucifer shiver ever so lightly as he continued out of the apartment building. He smirked slightly at his thoughts.


	2. Windows to the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man with the ice blue eyes pays you a visit and an incident at a diner will change your entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely apologize for this update. It has been 2 years since the first chapter...life completely got in the way. I had some family things come up, I was finishing up school, and starting my dream job. It's just been more for me to focus on life than writing. Thankfully, I remembered this story and to update. I'll do my very best to update this at a reasonable rate. Please forgive me!

You awoke to the sound of sirens. 'Ugh, not again,' the thought appears in your mind. You keep your eyes shut and roll over to your side. This wouldn’t be the first time you were so rudely awakened by the sound. While it wasn't a joyful sound, you rather hated it because of the thought of people being injured always made you sad, you still saw it as an inconvenience to your delicate sleep schedule.

It wasn't that you lived in an unsafe neighborhood, it was pretty safe in comparison to the surrounding areas, but it did start to puzzle you how frequent the ambulances were nowadays. Some days the calls seemed distant while some other days seemed like they were right next door. Injury and death waiting for you at every turn, your pessimistic thoughts normal claimed. As far as you were aware, there hadn't been any instances within your apartment complex, but there had been at least one a couple of complexes down. While the thought of anything terrible happening at your apartments was terrifying, you were at least grateful that nothing serious had happened in yours. It was enough to make you feel at least a little safe.

As you toss and turn, you realize there was no going back to sleep at this point. You let out a big yawn as you stretch out your arms and legs while turning to look at your alarm clock. 8:32 a.m. On a Saturday. What the hell are you doing up so early on a weekend? You groan at the time, but sit up on your bed. It's earlier than what you are normally used to waking up at, but you know there's just no way you were going to be able to fall back asleep now that you were already awake.

Adjusting your body to sit on the edge of your bed, you feel a tingle in your foot. Waking up slowly, that tingle turns into slight pain. A pain coming from one of your toes. You sit up straight and look down at your feet, curious as to where the tingle sensation was coming from. Your toe was slightly darker than the others on that foot, indicating it was freshly bruised. You grimace slightly at the sight, knowing that it was going to develop into a pretty gross looking bruise. Then all of a sudden it hit you. All the memories of last night came flooding back.

The pain of stubbing your toe, the sound of shattered glass, the man leaning against the counter. Lucifer, Satan, an angel of the Lord. His face inches from yours, your (Y/HC) hair in his hand. "Pretty," a gravelly voice had said. And that smirk. Sam and Dean Winchester. Brothers. And a job? And you…whatever your role in all this could even possibly be.

You hold your head as the overload of thoughts floods your mind. There's no way that happened. There couldn't be any possible truth behind the occurrence. It was for sure a dream…right? Your bruised toe seemed to indicate that it was, in fact, not a dream at all. 

You shudder at the thoughts and shake your head while jumping up from your sitting position. 'Nope. Nope. No way. You're just insane. No big deal,' you say aloud, trying to reassure yourself. It was ironic that you were trying to convince yourself you weren't crazy by telling yourself that you were crazy. Your mind was a weird place.

You begin to walk over to the closet, collecting clothes for your early morning shower. If you were up this early, you might as well shower and treat yourself to some delicious breakfast at the local diner. It would normally take you a while to pick out clothes that you wanted to wear, but today was a "Fuck It" kind of day, so you grabbed whatever pieces of clothing your eye caught first. Just a pair of blue jeans and a blue button up blouse. It was nice, but casual enough that you wouldn't feel too awkward about going out in public and eating breakfast at a small diner. Who knows, there might be a cute guy to catch your eye. You chuckle softly to yourself a the thought. A cute guy at a diner at 8:30 in the morning. No way. 

You collect all your articles of clothing and walk towards your small bathroom. You set the items on the sink counter, and turn towards the shower, turning the knobs. Your toe ached and you felt the presence of a headache coming on. A shower sounded perfect right about now. The water would surely soothe the ache and hopefully prevent a headache from fully forming. It could also be forming because you were getting pretty hungry at the thought of eggs and bacon. Hunger sounded like a better reasoning than some man claiming to be Lucifer. 

As the water runs, you grab your laptop from where it had been resting on your desk and set it on the countertop next to your clothes. It was kind of impossible to shower without listening to music and belting your heart out like you were the next American Idol. One of the many perks of living alone. No one was there to judge your probably horrible performances, you always told yourself. 

The music begins to play as you open up your iTunes. (Y/favorite band) starts playing and you begin to sing obnoxiously loud as you turn it up. That's one way to escape your thoughts. Drown it out with music and kill it with your voice. You undress and enter the shower, letting the hot water caress your body. 

As you place your head under the water, you realize you forgot to take off your hair tie. With your eyes still closed, you let down your hair and blindly shoot it at the open space above the shower door. It's perfectly shot in a way that causes it to fly up and towards the bathroom door you left open. It's just about to land on the side of your bed when a man with ice blue eyes appears, nonchalantly leaning up against your bed, catching the hair tie in his hand and closing his fist around it.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Jenny hated morning shifts at the diner. It was hard enough being a waitress and going to school at the same time, but to have to deal with the weirdos who showed up for early morning breakfast was almost too much handle. She sighed softly as she adjusted her purse over her shoulder and walked through the doors of the diner. There were only a few people scattered here and there. Not too bad for being seven in the morning. Of course there were still those two older men sitting at the counter, the "usuals." They would sit there drinking their coffee and wreaking of cigarettes and death. Their trashy clothes only accentuated the point. Just local drunks who always nursed their hangovers with coffee and hitting on waitresses. 

"Hey there pretty mama," one called out to Jenny with a sly grin, watching her like a hungry wolf as she walked by. She was headed towards the "Staff Only" door to discard her coat and her purse. 

Putting on her best fake smile, Jenny turned to the man and replied, "Good morning, Mr. Abernathy." She pushed through the door as quickly as she could and walked towards her locker. 

"Yuck…every time," she muttered to herself, fumbling with the combination lock.

As it unlocked, Jenny placed her coat and purse into the locker while simultaneously grabbing her apron. She put it around her waist and tightly fastened it. She sighed again, not looking forward to her long shift of the week. Jenny quickly readjusted her ponytail and flattened out the apron against her skirt. 

As she pushed the door to her locker shut, she heard the sound of shattering glass and loud thuds. While the sound of glass was not uncommon in a food place, the constant glass shattering and thuds were, in fact, very uncommon. 

Jenny stopped in place, frozen in position. What is happening out there? A woman's scream pierced through Jenny's ears. Utter fear washed over her body as she moved her hand over her mouth, not wanting to alert whomever was out there of her presence. 

Tears filled her eyes as she quietly, shakily, tiptoed towards the door, daring to peer through the small window. Trying to keep herself mostly hidden against the wall, Jenny leaned to look quickly through.

The customers who once sat peacefully at their tables and booths were not strewn across the diner. Blood lined the tables and walls. A ridiculous amount of blood. The cooks were laying on the floor in their own blood, others with their faces against burning stoves. One of the men at the counter was slumped in his chair, arms hanging lifelessly at his sides with his head using his breakfast plate on the counter as a pillow. 

Jenny was completely horrified by the sight. She whimpered quietly, once again frozen with fear. She heard a man's grunt and another thud as an ordinary-looking businessman slams Mr. Abernathy against the wall with unhuman-like ease. The wall right next to the door Jenny was peering through. The businessman was clutching Mr. Abernathy by the throat, lifting him up against the wall.

Jenny jumped back at the sudden appearance and put both her hands over her mouth. Tears streamed down her as she tried desperately not to cry out and sob loudly.

"This one smells funny. I don't want it." Jenny heard an unfamiliar man's voice. She assumed it could only belong to the businessman. 

Another unfamiliar voice, this time a woman's, sounded right next to his. 

"Ooooh, you know I like the lost and the drunkard. So pathetic." Jenny heard a woman's laugh, dark and rich with evil. 

"You have it then. No playing with your food this time, Aesma. It's quite childish." 

"Oh fine. If you insist, Allistair." There's a loud crack sound as Aesma yanked Mr. Abernathy's head to the side, breaking his neck like a cracker. The once struggling man hung lifeless against the wall.

The sound of breaking bones was completely distinct. There was no mistaking such a sound. It finally jolted Jenny into escape mode. With hands still covering her mouth, she began to back away slowly from the door, towards the door to the alley way. 

 _Click_.

The sound caused Jenny to stop in place again and she looked down at her feet, tears continue to stream down her face. A pen that had been poorly hooked to the pocket of her apron had come out of its cap and fallen to the tile floor. 'I have to get out now,' she thought urgently. 

She spun around, getting ready to bolt for the back door, but all of a sudden the businessman appeared in front of her. She screamed and jumped back, not knowing how in the world he managed to get there so quickly. 

"Well hello there. Aren't you a delicious looking thing. Don't leave so soon." He sneered at Jenny before his eyes turned completely black and leapt towards her.

The jet black eyes were the last thing she saw before life left her body. It happened in a matter of seconds. One moment the businessman was in front of her, the next he was stabbing her multiple times in the neck. She collapsed to the ground with the businessman kneeling over her as he licked the blood that had splattered over her arms. It dripped down her arm over a tattoo of what was Jenny's favorite saying. The tattoo would've left an entirely different message for her if she had still been alive.

' _Eyes are the windows to the soul_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story has just begun, but if anyone has any suggestions, critiques, or ideas of where you'd like to see the story go, feel free to let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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